departure in five
by Roses of Sharon
Summary: Yuya leaves, and Kyo tries not to care. He really does. But he’s never failed at anything before, and so now seems like a really good time for him to start. KyoYuya.


**Summary: **Yuya leaves, and Kyo tries not to care. He really does. But he's never failed at anything before, and so now seems like a really good time for him to start. KyoYuya.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Samurai Deeper Kyo_.

**departure in five;  
part one.**

In the end, it is Yuya who leaves. She leaves because, really, what else is there for her to do? She had thrown away years of her life for Kyo, slayer of a thousand men, and had done it willingly; but these last years were for her, now. These last years would be lived for herself.

As she packs up her bags, she wonders what, exactly, she will do. It has been a long time since she last lived for herself. Back when her onii-sama was still alive; before she lived for revenge, and before she lived for Onime no Kyo.

But there is nothing left here for her now; she is older and a bit more broken and a lot more tired. She doesn't have anything left for him anymore. He has it all already, and it is not enough. He doesn't even _smile_ at her, she thinks, and somehow that one thought is enough to let loose the torrent of tears that she had so bravely been holding at bay.

But she is Shiina Yuya, and she _does not cry does not show weakness does not do this_. Other women do this. Other women cry and break and let themselves be broken, but Yuya does not - Yuya _will _not. She has too much riding on this. She has too much yet to live for. There are years and years of her life left ahead, ten or twenty or thirty, at least, and she _refuses _to stay here, to let them be used and taken.

Most of all, she refuses to feel this despair.

Once, she promised him that he she would follow him forever. She is sorry to break this promise, but she knows that she has to. Looking across the camp at his slumbering form, she is sorry… very sorry, and this is _oh so hard_, but she knows that it is something she has to do. For herself.

She was young and foolish then - _more _young and _more _foolish - and less bitter, and willing to believe. Believe in slayers and politicians and swords and blood.

(And maybe she still believes…  
still believes in Kyo…  
still believes in all of them…  
but mostly Kyo.)

But it is too late now. It is far, far too late. She cannot do this anymore.

And so she sneaks one last glance across the campfire, her nimble fingers sliding the last of her things into her pack, and… _he is not there_. Her eyes widen and she gasps as cold, long fingers grasp her wrist.

"Leaving without permission?" he asks, and his voice is soft and hard and mocking, lilting.

"I couldn't sleep," Yuya gasps, and can't believe that she is still making up excuses for him. She should be beyond this. She should be able to look him in the eye and tell him that she's leaving.

…But now, looking into his red_red _eyes and with his hair falling around them like a scarlet curtain, she can only hope that she can still walk away. _I don't want this_, she thinks, and she knows she cannot. With him watching her, with his eyes on hers and his hand around her wrist and standing here right now facing him, she knows she cannot.

But she wants to. She wants to _oh so bad_.

"What," he snarls, after a moment of her silence. "What, you thought I wouldn't wake up? The first thing you should have learned about me, _woman_, is that I never let down my guard."

"My name," she tells him, "is _Yuya_." But it is not spoken with the same fire as it would have been mere months ago, though she tries.

(_Can he see it? _she wonders, in her heart of hearts  
Can he see me breaking?)

But her eyes, older now, stare up at him with a mockery of the spark they once contained. She is tired. He can see it, and he stands here, helpless in the face of this… this _last betrayal_, he forces himself to think.

"Leaving me now?" he asks, again, and does not give her space to answer, picking her up and throwing her bodily from the clearing and tossing her pack after her. "Leave, then."

He can smell her blood on the breeze, hear the way she gasps, hisses in pain. And even after he turns his back on her, he sees her face, her eyes… But he closes his heart too it, though it makes something within him clench in swift reflex.

"I tried," comes her murmur, though he tries his best not to hear it. "I tried to keep my promise. I tried to stay by your side, like Muramasa-san asked me too, because he said you needed me, even though… even though you didn't know it. But I can't see that anymore. I don't think you need me at all. But I want you to know that I tried. I really did believe in you, Onime no Kyo. I trusted you."

And then she is gone, and he can finally, _finally_ breathe. Can finally sink to his knees against the tree and close his eyes and try to hate her and fail. Because she isn't the betrayer.

He remembers the feel of her kimono against his fingers, the way her hands grasp onto his, the look in her eyes as he picks her up, the gasp as she flies through the air… No, she isn't the betrayer. He is.

But she… she's _Yuya_, damn it, and she'd never leave! She'll come back, he tells himself. She'll come back, just as she always has, and he clutches his head in his hands and tries not to be sick, because the thought of her not returning is enough to make him physically ill. Which should not be possible - Onime no Kyo controls everything, damn it, he controls his entire body and _why won't he stop shaking? _

Hours or days later, when he realizes that she is really, really not returning, he stumbles slowly to his feet; staggers once, picks up his pack and straps his sword to his waist.

He has not been without her, truly without her, for years. When she was not physically at his side, she was close, or she was… _captured and waiting for him, _and _oh god, what if…? _She had never been able to protect herself before -

And then he is walking much faster than he used to, much, much faster; a little bit too fast, but he can't seem to stop himself, and _which direction was she traveling in? _He doesn't know, suddenly. Onime no Kyo, slayer of a thousand men, following a woman through a forest and _unable to remember which direction she took_, and _is he the strongest man in the world or not? _

He is. He knows he is; he's never been defeated, he defeated Kyoshiro, he destroyed the Crimson King, so _why _can't he find Yuya and _what is the use of being the strongest man in the world if he cannot track one fool woman. _

But he does not even remember how long he sat there, waiting for her to return. It was near morning then, and it is afternoon now, and he is sure that at least one night passed, but how many? He does not know.

He can only follow the road and hope that it does not fork.

(And pray to whatever gods still listen that Yuya followed the path…  
because she would, wouldn't she?  
no matter how stubborn she is…  
no matter how foolish  
she wouldn't have wandered into the forest.  
would she?)

No, of course not, he thinks - and then he hears it: the sound of the safety being flicked off, and the low murmur of hostile voices, and he is running.

There is a clearing, and in this clearing stands four men, all larger then he is, and arguing loudly amongst themselves - silly of him not to have heard it before, really, but he had been listening for a clumsy little girl, not four obnoxious men. Yuya is not there, but…

She is behind a tree somewhere, he thinks in relief, hiding and not engaging the enemy. Good girl. Finally learned some intelligence. Some survival instinct?

But he heard the safety click, _definitely_, which means. And then the first man drops, bullet in his head, and he realizes that she has _absolutely no _survival instinct, because the men are bigger and stronger and probably faster than her, and there are four of them to her one, and she has to reload.

And then he is moving, sword sweeping out and slashing, cutting, _biting_. Yuya is probably furious, he thinks. Yuya is probably wishing he weren't here. But if _he _weren't here, he thinks, hitting the man perhaps a bit harder than he has to, then who would save her?

She would probably tell him that she doesn't need saving. Which isn't true, because without him she would probably be dead.

(Something in him hurts at the thought of her being dead  
but he pushes it away  
because he's here, isn't he?  
and so she's not going to die.  
he won't let her.)

And then it is over, a little too fast, and he is standing there with his sword out and dripping blood, watching her. There is a half-smile, mocking and a little bitter, on her lips; and in her eyes is real, honest despair; real heartbreak.

"I don't need you," she tells him. "You wanted me gone, and now I am. Don't make this any harder than it has to be."

"It doesn't have to be hard," he tells her, and, because she is Yuya, she knows precisely what he means.

"It does," and then she is walking away again, backing away as though she cannot tear her eyes off of him, as though she cannot bear to turn her back to him. When her foot catches on a root, though, she finally does - stumbles a bit and turns and walks away, steps heavy, shoulders slumped.

He follows, and he is sure she knows it. But she refuses to turn, refuses to turn and stare him in the eyes and demand why he is following her.

And he is a little thankful for this, because he does not know.


End file.
